Music:crown me king- worlygig pistol, dervish musket
paranoia strikes back.
you know the sap of the world ash bleeds black? or at least that is the only theory i've come up with to explain all this inky amber we're trapped in. hearts hidden beneath hoary roots, bait to lure the dragon into doing our dirty work for us while we lurk up here in our cobwebs all about middle earth. & when the trunk is laid low we'll spin our silk between the minarets of ife once more, ain soph or no. so don your muslin garments, one after another, until you are choked with cloth, & then know that the count of bones has drawn to a close. we rise up as one body. knifey-night, bitches!